


Yumeweek 2020 (or Em's self-insert hell)

by ThePortugueseNinja



Category: Devil May Cry, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Awkward Kissing, Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Manga Spoilers, Dancing in the Rain, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Flower Crowns, Fluff, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Picnics, Romantic Soulmates, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27796945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePortugueseNinja/pseuds/ThePortugueseNinja
Summary: A collection of short fics for Yume week 2020 on Twitter.
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Original Female Character(s), Dante/Original Character(s), Scar (Fullmetal Alchemist)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. First

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again with OC content that no one asked for. I need as much serotonin as possible in these trying times.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dante and Harlow enjoy their first kiss together

Dante was a man of confidence. It was a big part of what he was known for; the legendary devil hunter with a big ego and a sharp tongue. He liked to talk himself up in every way possible, and in most cases he had the skill to prove it.

Until it came to romance.

Sure, Dante talked a big game when it came to his love life, but in reality his dating experience was slim to none. Due to his recklessness and his attitude, he tended to push any potential romantic partners away. Most of what he knew came from listening to Lady and Trish gossip or from watching Nero and Kyrie. But as it turned out, putting those actions into practice with no idea how to actually do it was a lot harder than expected. Dante was lucky, though. Harlow liked to tease him for these things, but in the end didn’t mind taking these one step at a time. They had made it clear that a lot of these things were new for them too, so they could learn these things together. He had decided to himself, however, that their first kiss was going to be perfect no matter what.

“I can’t believe none of you guys have seen this movie before.” Harlow chided. They were curled up on the worn couch of the Devil May Cry, leaning against Dante. “A story of two men stranded together fighting their creeping insanity? That seems right up Vergil’s alley.” Dante shrugged, wrapping an arm around their form and pulling them closer.

“Hey, don’t ask me, babe. Even if I tried to get him to watch anything, he’s more of a reader.” he chuckled. Harlow hummed lowly, tapping their nails against their now empty beer can.

“Well, sure, but you mentioned he likes stuff that’s a little more artistic. I think this fits the bill for that. Especially with the black and white.” they mused in response. Dante looked down at them, taking a moment to admire how they looked with the light from the tv reflecting across their face. A familiar warmth swelled in his chest. He still wasn’t quite used to that affectionate feeling, but it happened more often than not these days. It was always during the simple, domestic moments they shared; playful banter that ended with a tongue stuck out, the peaceful look on their face when they’d doze off unintentionally, and the way their eyes would light up at the smallest excitements. 

“Quit staring, cowboy.” Dante was brought from his thoughts by the sound of Harlow’s voice. He blinked a few times, refocusing on their face. There was a small smirk on their features and he could swear there was a light flush of pink on their cheeks. “I have a feeling you didn’t hear anything I just said.” They were, unfortunately, right. 

“Sorry, sunshine. Just admiring you, is all. Or would it go over smoother if I told you I got lost in your eyes?” he teased. Harlow slapped his arm, muttering a soft ‘shut up’ as they did so. Harsh words aside, they couldn’t hide the growing smile plastered on their face. Dante felt his own smile grow, and a comfortable silence fell between the two of them. It was at that moment that Dante realized this was it. The perfect moment for a kiss had fallen right into his lap. He steeled himself, taking a deep breath in through his nose.

_ ‘Okay Dante, relax. You’ve got this. Nero told you everything important and you’ve practiced in your head a dozen times’ _ he told himself. It was embarrassing to remember said conversation with Nero, and the fact that a 40 year old had to ask his nephew of all people about kissing, but that was a thought to regret another time. He swallowed hard, shifting himself so he was facing Harlow better. Slowly, he started leaning in. His heart was about beating out of his chest, but he knew he was going to nail this. His eyes fluttered shut and it felt perfect-

-until their noses collided.

“Ow! Jeez, Dante! What the hell was that?” Harlow shouted, pulling back and holding the bridge of their nose. If he wasn’t having palpitations before, he sure was having them now. Oh god, his face was so hot. When he went to reply he couldn’t form any words, so he cleared his throat and tried again.

“I, uh…I mean, you know how I am with these things…I honestly thought I had it.” he choked. Harlow’s eyes were locked with his, their brows furrowed together. But after a moment, their expression softened and they laughed. They pushed up their glasses and scooted closer to him, cupping his face softly.

“Here, this time try tilting your head a little bit.” they said. Dante did as he was told, instinctively leaning forward and closing his eyes. This time, their lips met, and he felt like he would explode at any second. Their lips were soft, almost softer than he was expecting, and the feeling of their cool hands against his cheeks was a relief to his flushed skin. His hands moved to rest on their shoulders, and he felt them softly hum into the kiss. When Harlow finally pulled away, Dante realized he hadn’t breathed at all in the moment. He let out a huff, and Harlow chuckled in response. “Was that better?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.” He replied, giving their shoulders a light squeeze. He hated to admit it, but he already missed the feeling of their lips against his. “Can I kiss you again? I’d like to do it right this time.” They smiled in response and leaned back in, letting Dante take the lead. He took a moment to really appreciate the experience before beginning to pull away. Harlow snuck in one more peck before pulling back, a soft flush now visible on their features. The two of them fell back into a moment of quiet, but it didn’t last long as the warm smile on Harlow’s face shifted to a more playful smirk. Ina quick movement, they summoned their snake familiar to rest on their shoulders.

“Aww, look Dante. Sinbad wants a kiss too.” They teased. Sinbad peeked his head up towards the while haired male, tongue fluttering out. Dante flashed a smile and leaned forward, matching his eye level with that of the snake.

“Hey, who am I to turn down the little guy? If he wants a kiss he gets one too!”

Much to Dante’s dismay, Sinbad’s kiss was a bite directly to the nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway y'all watch The Lighthouse if you haven't already (but check doesthedogdie.com first for potential triggers, it's a pretty heavy film).
> 
> Follow me on Twitter @Tennnmei for more horrible self-insert posting


	2. Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emalia gives a small gift to Scar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, these won't all be Dantlow centric! I have a few selfships I'll be focusing on for these prompts.

“It will suit you just fine, I promise.”

Scar furrowed his brows together. His eyes stayed fixed on the woman in front of him, who was currently weaving together a halo of flowers. Even though he wasn’t one for dates, Emalia had somehow convinced him to come on a picnic. Her bakery was closed and she’d just come up with a wonderful new bread recipe, she’d insisted. No matter how much he tried to fight it, he struggled to tell her know when she asked so sweetly. So there he sat, taking in the warm afternoon sun. Emalia had somehow found a quiet little park right near Central, so they didn’t have to travel very far. There were only a few others out and about, so the two of them were able to sit comfortably by the small pond off the path. She glanced up from her project, and gave him a soft smile when she met his eyes.

“Ah, don’t make that face. Just humor me here. Try it on once for me, and if you really don’t like it you can take it off, okay?” she cooed. Her voice always had such a soft fondness when she spoke to him. If he were to be honest, he wasn’t even sure what she saw in someone like him. Even though they’d met after the Promised Day, his past stull hung heavy with him. Regardless of what he told her, she insisted that since he “died” that day his past actions were those of someone else. It was as if his past self didn’t exist when she was with him.

“Fine. I’ll allow it for now.” Scar grumbled. Emalia giggled in response, and she reached over to give his hand a soft squeeze before returning to the task at hand. Scar could feel his face beginning to heat up, so he distracted himself with the small basket of food. There wasn’t much left aside from a couple waters and some sweet pastries. He grabbed one of each, focusing a little too intently on unwrapping the covering of the danish. Emalia grabbed another small handful of assorted flowers, looking up at him.

“You know, I’m sure you could make one of these yourself.” she started, gesturing the flowers towards him. “You’ve baked with me before, so I know you have a gentle enough touch to do something like this.” She flashed another one of her smiles that Scar was weak for. He huffed softly, taking a quick bite of the danish before setting it aside in favor of the flowers. Emalia hummed as he did so, scooting herself so she was sitting side by side with him. She took three more flowers from the shrinking pile, twisting the stems together. 

“You start by braiding the stems together, like so, and you use a little bit of string to tie them off.” she instructed. Once she realized neither of them had any string on hand she pinched the stems together, fumbling for the strings she’d been using. When she pulled them over she offered the first one to Scar, which he took without a word. He watched her intently as she tied together what she’d done so far. Slowly, he copied her motions, braiding the stems and tying them off. “Good, that’s perfect! Now, you’ll just add flowers to each side one at a time, and keep braiding it like so.”. After her praise she began showing the next steps, seamlessly intertwining the flowers together. Scar frowned and looked at his own, doing his best to mimic the steps. He was definitely slower, and a little sloppier, but after a minute or so he was able to get a small chain linked together.

“I’m not quite as good at this as you are…” he admitted, gripping the flowers a bit heavy handedly. Emalia simply hummed in response, putting the finishing touches on her crown from before. White, purple, and yellow seemed perfectly arranged amongst the green of the crown. She looked up to him, reaching up to place the halo atop his head.

“It’s alright. These are all things you learn with practice.” she said, adjusting the crown so it sat just right. “There you are,  _ Dragi _ , it suits you well. Asters and daffodils as a symbol of love, and clovers so we’ll always be thinking of each other.” Scar felt himself blush again and he looked away, unable to keep eye contact in the moment.

“Thank you...I’m sorry I couldn’t have one done for you…” he responded softly. He grabbed one of the asters, twirling it between his thumb and finger. Emalia took his hand gently, pulling it up towards herself and motioning towards her hair. Scar caught on quickly, and he tucked the single flower behind her ear. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink and she smiled again, this time more bashfully than before.

“I think this suits me just fine, don’t you think?”. Her eyes met with his and Scar found he couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his features.

"Yes, I think that suits you perfectly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragi means darling in Croatian. Since Scar doesn't have a name post promised day, Emalia simply calls him by pet names in her native tongue. 
> 
> Remember to check me out @Tennnmei on Twitter for more dumb selfshipping!


	3. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aizawa and Kanon share an intimate moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going with BNHA for this one. This was a scenario I considered using for my Aizawa reader-insert fic, but I have another plot line I'm going with instead

The train was quiet. Not dead silent, but the sort of hushed silence that came after a long day. The warm colors of the sunset basking over the passengers added enough warmth to make even the hardened train seats feel comfortable, and it was peaceful. Aizawa had fallen victim to Eri's charm once again. A commercial for an amusement park had been on TV, so of course she asked what a 'mamusament park' was. And of course, after Aizawa's explanation, her eyes lit up with that familiar childlike wonder. He didn't even give her a chance to ask before offering to take her. She'd given a shy nod, and it wasn't until a couple days later that she asked if Kanon could come too. Aizawa had figured why not. He wasn't really one for busy public places, so it'd be nice to have someone else along that could handle the lines and the people.

Kanon was always great with Eri, and today was no exception. Anything that Eri requested, Kanon was there to sweep her up and make sure she got to try whatever it was. It warned Aizawa's heart. Although he did get dragged into almost everything the duo did. Ferris wheel? Obviously. Carnival games? He was the best at them, so he had to. Enough sweets to give you a headache? Unfortunately. Even if he wouldn't admit it himself, he'd had a great time. But now he could feel the beginnings of exhaustion creeping in, and the comfort of the train was very promising. 

"Today was fun." Kanon mused, breaking the silence. Eri had already fallen asleep, curled up with her head resting against the older woman. Aizawa hummed in response, keeping his gaze fixed forward. Kanon's hand mindlessly ran through Eri's hair, gently working at the tangles. The little girl had quickly stolen her heart, and she couldn't help but want to make up for her lack of maternal figure. It was bad enough that Eri didn't have parents, but to add on the suffering she went through made Kanon want to keep her smiling no matter what. 

"It was a good experience for Eri." Aizawa finally responded. Kanon nodded and looked over to him. 

"It was, yeah. And it was nice to be able to spend time together doing something fun aside from drinking." she chuckled. The two of them had been friends since their UA days. Kanon wouldn't admit, however, the gigantic crush she still had on Aizawa. There had been dozens of times she wanted so badly to confess, but lost the nerve at the last second. She had hoped, after not seeing each other for several years after graduation, that her feelings would have subsided. Just her luck though, they hadn't changed a bit. In the moment, looking at the way the light shone against his features made her heart flutter.

"Well, it was definitely nice to spend some time without Hizashi." he joked. Kanon laughed softly and pushed her hair back behind her ear. There was a tightness in her chest that was an uncomfortable reminder of her feelings. She took a shaky breath and took in the warmth of the rays coming through the window. Perhaps it was that, or perhaps it was the girl cuddled at her side, but she started to speak again. 

"It was just good to be together with you and Eri both. It felt kind of familial, you know?" She started. Aizawa didn't respond immediately, so she swallowed hard and continued. "It…was kinda nice to imagine us as a little family…" her voice had lowered to almost a whisper. The urge to throw up built in her stomach, but she'd gone too far to go back now. "I guess really what I'm saying is…I like to think about what it'd be like for us to be…together.". The silence between them remained, and Kanon felt like she could shrink away into nothing. "God, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything-"

"I wouldn't mind giving it a shot." Aizawa mumbled. Kanon felt like her heart was about to explode out of her chest. "I've never…really dated anyone. But I think I'd be willing to try it if it's with you." His cheeks were beginning to flush, and Kanon felt her face heating as well. The tightness in her chest slowly changed into a swelling happiness, and she couldn't fight the giddy smile breaking onto her features. Aizawa glanced to her, raising his brows and shooting her a small smile back. She laughed and cupped her cheek, looking the other way. 

"I'm sorry, Shouta. I've been sitting on these feelings for years. It feels good to finally get it off my chest." She replied, sinking back into her seat. Warmth spread through her whole body and she let out a sigh of relief. Aizawa reached over, placing a hand over the one she had resting on Eri's head. 

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't occasionally thought about this." he admitted. His hand gave a soft squeeze to Kanon's and she grinned. She was mentally slapping herself for acting like a high schooler, but she decided to let herself have this moment. 

"What do you say we don't tell Hizashi about this? See how long it takes him to figure out." she suggested. The two of them shared a laugh, and for a moment that train felt like home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I kinda lost some steam with this one, but hopefully it turned out okay in the end. 
> 
> Once again I'm gonna shamelessly plug my Twitter, @Tennnmei. Feel free to follow if you want


	4. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dante tries to brighten Harlow's day

It wasn’t often that Dante and Harlow were able to go out on actual dates. More often than not, the two just lounged around the shop enjoying each other’s company. Neither of them really minded, but every now and then they’d actually plan to spend the day doing something else. For their latest escapade Dante suggested Fredi’s. He and Harlow had only gone one other time when they first got together, and he was determined to get them to try their strawberry sundaes since they hadn’t the last time. Harlow agreed to it, and had added that if the weather was nice enough they could walk. When the day came they were in luck; the weather was absolutely perfect. They were able to take their time strolling to the diner and taking in the warm spring sun. Everything was looking great for them.

Until a thunderstorm rolled in.

“Well, I guess we could wait it out and try to walk. Unless you want to call a cab.” Harlow mumbled. Their eyes were fixed on the window as they watched the rain cascading down the glass. Dante took the last bite of his ice cream, loudly dropping his spoon into the empty glass. He supposed there was no harm in taking a cab, but he couldn’t move past the notable melancholy suddenly cast over Harlow.

“I’m good with either one, babe. But I’d rather you tell me why the long face all of a sudden. I thought you liked storms like this.” he replied. Harlow’s eyes flicked over to him, before going back to the rain. They let out a low hum, propping their head up in their hand.

“Well yeah, I like them when I’m comfortable at home, not out on a date.” they answered. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just bummed because I was looking forward to the walk home, is all.” Dante frowned, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. Harlow wasn’t typically one to be bothered by things like that. Obviously they just wanted to spend some time together, and he had a feeling just being in the shop wouldn’t quite be the same. There weren’t too many other indoor activities for them to do, either. Even if Dante wanted to take them somewhere else nice, there wasn’t anything nearby, and a cab fare further than the shop would have his wallet screaming in protest. He couldn’t help but feel a little bad.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s not the same, but I’m sure I can find  _ something _ for us to do back at the shop.” he offered, giving them a small smile. They finally looked back at him, and they parroted his smile as best they could.

“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go call a cab, then.” they said. Dante stood and offered his arm, taking Harlow under his shoulder and heading towards the front. There was a payphone by the entrance of the diner, so Dante stopped to make the call. As he went to dial, he hesitated. He couldn’t fight the gnawing feeling of wanting to do something different, something better to brighten Harlow’s mood. A dozen different scenarios ran through his had before one idea finally settled in his brain. He grinned to himself, quietly hanging up the receiver. Once he was sure Harlow wasn’t focused on him, he ran beside them, grabbing their hand and pulling them out the door.

“Dante! What are you doing?” they shouted, trying to cover themselves with their arms. He laughed and spread his arms out, letting himself get soaked. Harlow let out a huff as he reached a hand forward for them to take.

“Why should we let the rain stop our fun? They do this kinda stuff all the time in romantic movies! Come on, dance with me!” he grinned. As much as they tried to fight it, Harlow couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. They narrowed their eyes playfully at him before grabbing the outstretched hand. Dante pulled them closer, taking their other hand in his and intertwining their fingers. A moment later he started to step, urging Harlow to follow his lead. They rolled their eyes and did so, falling into rhythm with him. 

“I can’t believe you sometimes, you know?” Harlow teased. Dante raised their hands and twirled Harlow away, before pulling them back in. The two quickly fell back into their mental rhythm.

“Which part? My quick wit or my unbelievable charm?” he quipped. Harlow scoffed and playfully squeezed his hands. 

“Just…the lengths you’ll go to sometimes. Somehow you never fail to catch me off guard.” they admitted. Dante’s features softened and he admired how vulnerable they looked in that moment. As if to prove their point, he dramatically dipped them. He held them there for a moment, giving them a softer smile than before.

“What can I say? I just want to make sure you've always got that smile I love.” Harlow stayed stone faced for a moment, before chuckling softly.

“Dante, that’s cute and all, but I can barely see you through my glasses. They’re covered in rain.” they said. Dante laughed and leaned back up, sneaking in a quick kiss as he did. “You know since you’re the one that dragged me out here, you better have something for me to wear back at the shop.”

“I get to see you wearing my clothes? I’m not gonna complain about that, sunshine.” Dante teased, wrapping an arm around them once again as they began their trek back to the Devil May Cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The entire time I wrote this I was thinking of Summertime Clothes by Animal Collective
> 
> Gonna take a break from plugging my Twitter, y'all have seen it by now


	5. Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emalia learns to love the color red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Fate' was probably the hardest prompt I've had so far. I ended up going with a soulmate AU, but it took me a while to get the idea hammered out. I went a little ham with the descriptive text here but hope y'all like it all the same.

She’d seen red ever since she was a child. Of course, children never really understood the concept of why they saw color the way they did. Not until they were older, at least. But it was something everyone dealt with. As you grew, you’d only be able to see the color of your soulmate’s eyes. Everything else was black, white, and the shades in between. When Emalia’s parents found out that their child could only see red, they were at best, puzzled. Emalia didn’t understand why her parents' faces scrunched like that. All she knew was that she loved the way the poppies and amaryllis looked blooming in the field near their house, and the way apples and pomegranates would reflect under the bright light of the kitchen. Red was a color that made her feel warm and happy. What reason should she have to worry?

It wasn’t until she was closer to her teen years that the disgust for red showed so viciously in other people. Emalia helped her parents in the bakery, and was constantly hearing whispers of the ongoing war. Dublith had begun to see some of the fallout, so she couldn’t help but worry. She only assumed everyone felt that way; the war felt needless, and the reasons for what was happening were a bit too much for her to fully understand at that age. But she soon learned that others felt much differently than she did. Customers loved to stay and chat with her parents, and whenever she was around the subject  _ always _ fell to soulmates. They’d be so thrilled to ask about the color she saw, or if they had any ideas as to who it could be. Whenever they heard it was red, their entire demeanor would shift. Their faces would twist in disgust or they’d give her a look of concern, as if she needed to be pitied for some reason. She grew to loathe the conversations. What right did people have to make those nasty faces over something she had no control over? No one would even be honest with her. She’d poke and prod about why red was so shameful, but the adults would always turn the other cheek and say something about it being too much for her. As she got older, she avoided the conversation all together.

“You’re telling me you’ve never seen an Ishvalan?” a customer gossiped to her friend one day. Emalia was 19 at the time, and was watching the shop for her parents. The Ishvalan Civil War had just ended, so it seemed to be the hot topic as of late. She really wished it wasn’t. As she’d gotten older, she learned the truths about the war, and it left her feeling resentful and bitter.

“Well, I haven’t met my soulmate yet, so I can only see the color green” the other woman replied. The first customer giggled, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder. Emalia couldn’t help but quietly scoff. At this point in her life, she was tired of hearing about soulmates. What good was hers if it only gained her pity and scorn?

“Oh, how could I forget! But you wouldn’t believe it, Elisa! They look so different from us. They have this stunning white hair, and bright red eyes.” the woman chittered. Emalia felt her heart stop when she heard that. Her soulmate was an Ishvalan? How could that be possible after the war? How could she even know if her soulmate was still alive or not? No one ever talked about what happened if your soulmate died before you met. She felt the sudden, uncontrollable urge to cry, so she snuck back into the kitchen, pretending to prepare more goods. 

Later that night, she finally addressed her parents. Why hadn’t they told her about Ishvalans? Even before the war, they would look at her with pity as she excitedly played in the red blooms around her. They insisted it was only because they found it strange; in what context would their daughter meet and fall in love with an Ishvalan? Ishvalans didn’t exactly hang out around Amestris. But her blood still boiled. The color she’d grown to love was one that other people hated for such a shallow reason? When people gave her those pitiful looks, it was because they were so consumed with hatred for another people that the idea of loving someone with your whole heart was criminal. Emalia decided, after that, that she must not have a soulmate. This was fate’s cruel way of telling her she’d have no one, and she’d have to live only seeing a color that made her feel guilt.

Ten years later, Emalia had her own bakery in Central. It had been a relatively slow day, and she focused on making some extra stock to carry through the rest of the night. The bell above the door chimed. She smiled, reentering the main shop from the kitchen. As she went to offer a greeting, her words caught in her throat and she stopped. Two men stood in the doorway. One in military garb, the other in more traditional clothing. They were the same tone as everything else; black, white gray...and red eyes. The military man gave a nod and a wave, distracting himself with the goods surrounding him, but the other man kept his eyes locked with hers. And as Emalia blinked, suddenly everything felt warmer. It came like a slow fade, the things surrounding her coming to life with hue and brightness. She couldn’t stop the laugh that erupted from her chest. After all this time, all those years that she was convinced no one would ever come, she finally saw him. Her soulmate. He stood, unmoving, but his face read with the same surprise as hers did.

“Wow...I can’t believe it,” she started softly, taking a few steps towards the counter. “Honestly, I never thought this day would come. I  _ actually _ have a soulmate.” The mysterious Ishvalan cleared his throat, finally stepping towards her.

“Well...I feel the same way. Although, green isn’t too bad of a color to be stuck with.” he replied, breaking his gaze to look to the side. “I’m sure red must’ve been pretty bad, huh?” Emalia could only smile wider, feeling the warmth of love spread through her body.

“No, red is such a wonderful color. I couldn’t be happier.”


	6. Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aizawa and Kanon both reflect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked the idea I went with for this prompt, but it was one of those where when I sat to write my enthusiasm went through the floor, so it's a little shorter than the others. Hope you guys like it regardless!
> 
> Be warned, there are minor spoilers for the latest chapters of the BNHA manga!

Kanon felt like she couldn’t get to his hospital room fast enough. A lot of things happened during the paranormal liberation attack - and a lot of people were hurt. Hell, Kanon herself was still sore everywhere. But in this moment none of that mattered. In her mind, the only important thing was seeing him.

Aizawa looked up with the sound of the door sliding open. His eyes fell on Kanon, who stood in the doorway huffing to catch her breath. He gave her a soft smile; softer than was normal for him. Almost immediately, her eyes welled with tears and there was an audible sob choked in her throat. Aizawa opened his mouth to speak, but before he could Kanon was on him in the tightest embrace she could muster. He let out a sigh and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

“It’s okay, Kanon. I’m here. I’m okay.” he cooed. She kept her face buried in his chest and broke out into uncontrollable sobs. Aizawa planted a kiss on the top of her head and rested his cheek there. There wasn’t anything he could say at that moment. He could only imagine how worried she must’ve been, how much she’d been hurting. Just knowing how much he thought about her safety, he knew her concerns would’ve been double or triple that. That was just the kind of person Kanon was. 

“God, I’m so sorry, Shouta. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there to help you.” Kanon cried. All of the fears she’d kept buried the past few days had come bubbling to the surface. She’d known that he was alive, but actually feeling his touch and hearing his voice relieved her to the point of tears. In place of her anxieties was now guilt. She knew plenty well that Aizawa could handle himself just fine, and that her presence wouldn’t have done much to prevent things. But she couldn’t quiet the voice that kept telling her  _ ‘but what if?’ _ . Maybe if she’d been there, she could’ve taken the quirk erasing bullet and he’d still have a leg. 

“Why are you apologizing? There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, darling.” Aizawa murmured. “I should be the one apologizing. I worried you sick.”. He heard a few hiccups from Kanon and she gazed up at him with puffy, tear-stained eyes. One of his hands trailed from her back to cup her cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears under her eye. 

“No, I mean...it’s your job. I know that. It’s my job, too. But I wish I could’ve been there to try and do something to keep you safer. This isn’t fair.” she sniffed. Aizawa cupped her other cheek and kissed her forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling away. He gave her another soft smile, thumbs stroking her cheeks softly.

“I knew what I was getting into, Kanon. I’d much rather you be safe as you are right now than anything else.” he assured her. Her lip quivered for a moment, but she bit it back and nodded. “I did what I had to. Now we have to live with the consequences. But that doesn’t fall on you.”

“I know, you’re right…” Kanon muttered, pulling away from his embrace and furiously wiping her face on her sleeve. “Sorry for uh...gunking up your shirt.” Aizawa looked down at the large wet spot on his chest and chuckled softly. 

“Tears are far from the worst thing I’ve had to deal with in my life.” he assured. Then he scooted to the side of his bed, patting the now vacant spot to invite her to lay with him. There was a brief moment of hesitation, but Kanon accepted the offer, sheepishly cuddling up next to her boyfriend. Aizawa wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his chest again, burying his face in her hair. Even if he didn’t say it outright, he was so incredibly thankful that she was okay. Never again did he want to lose someone so dear to him. Eventually he’d tell her why he made the choices he did, about how desperately he wanted to avenge Shirakumo, but today wasn’t the time. Instead, he closed his eyes and pulled his embrace tighter. He’d give up as many limbs as he needed to in order to keep the people he loved safe and sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I'm just putting an end note because Ao3 is doing some funny stuff, don't mind this lmao

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway y'all watch The Lighthouse if you haven't already (but check doesthedogdie.com first for potential triggers, it's a pretty heavy film). 
> 
> Follow me on Twitter @Tennnmei for more horrible self-insert posting


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